Raw
by atetheredmind
Summary: Nyotaimori: The practice of serving sushi or sashimi from a naked woman's body. Katniss meets Peeta in the most compromising of situations.


_Written for Prompts in Panem Day 3 (Sin prompt: gluttony)._

_a/n: Wow, I just realized the original story I uploaded had completely cut off the first paragraph. I've reuploaded it with the missing paragraph (which isn't much at all, but it should make a little more sense now). Sorry about that!_

* * *

Katniss couldn't believe she let Johanna talk her into this. This was, without a doubt, the worst decision of her life.

But she needed the money. She'd been fired from her last job as a server, dismissed on the spot when she'd dumped a beer on a patron's head for grabbing her ass. The manager Thread hadn't cared that she'd been molested by a customer; he'd sent her packing before she could even finish her shift. It was bullshit.

And rent was due at the end of the week, and she needed to make some money, fast. Which was how she ended up at Capitol Sushi, the naked sushi bar Johanna worked at. She assured her she made bank every night because the men who came were horny, entitled, middle-age pigs willing to throw money at nude women for a cheap thrill and blue balls, apparently.

Katniss didn't know why these men didn't just go to strip clubs or brothels fronting as "massage parlours," but based on the things Jo told her about some of the girls she worked with, Katniss guessed the sushi bar wasn't that different from those kinds of seedy establishments, after all.

As she went through training to accustom herself to lying still for hours with cold, wet food leeched to her skin, every feminist sensibility in her screamed at her stupidity. But she had her pride to consider now, her ego; she'd be damned if she was going to ask anyone to help her with her bills, not even her mother or Prim.

_It's just till I find another well-paying job, _she told herself as she got ready for her first night. The ritual involved an actual prep team who helped bathe and groom her for the evening. Capitol Sushi was an exclusive club; only the elite were allowed in, and very wealthy businessmen often paid the owner, Effie Trinket, to cater "private parties." Which was what Katniss was heading to that night; that was the only reason Effie had hired her so quickly—she needed more human "platters" than she currently had. The client for the evening, Coriolanus Snow, was a very important, extremely rich client. What he wanted, he got.

"Now, girls, please remember to be on your best behavior! It's a big, big, big night!" Effie chirped enthusiastically with a clap of her hands as they all slipped on their silk black kimonos. Katniss was actively fighting back the bile rising in her throat. Unfortunately, there had been nothing in her training about how to control her puking urges, so she'd purposefully forgone dinner to avoid any mess.

This was still the worst decision of her life.

"Buck up, Kitty," Johanna purred in her ear. 'Kitty' was her name for the night. Despite the sexual overtones, Katniss was okay with the pseudonym; she'd much rather no one knew who she really was.

"Easy for you to say," Katniss groused as they were herded into a limo to be delivered to the party, self-consciously stroking the elaborate braid her stylists had pinned her hair in. "You'd walk around naked all day if you could." Her friend had zero qualms with nudity, which was probably why this job was so ideal for her. At least, Katniss wouldn't be completely nude. The sushi and garnishes were going to be arranged strategically to shield her most private parts from the sushi grazers.

Still, she'd been waxed and plucked of every hair but that on her head. It was a new sensation, definitely.

Luckily, they arrived before the clientele and were stationed on large granite-top tables; Katniss was grateful for the momentary reprieve while she was artfully decorated and discreetly shielded by the food prep team as they covered her nipples with gari and draped a modest silk scarf over her crotch before adorning her torso, arms and legs in sushi rolls. She took a moment to glance at the other women splayed out on the tables around the room; they were all gorgeous, with erotic-sounding names: Glimmer, Clove, Cashmere, Enobaria. Johanna went by Liana when on the job.

Katniss was glad she wasn't the only one who sounded like a stripper, though she wasn't allowed to talk to the customers—not that she would want to—so she wasn't sure why anyone would want or need to know her name.

After a few more minutes, Effie gave the signal that the party was about to start; Katniss heard more than saw the arrival of whom she guessed to be Coriolanus Snow. He and Effie chatted for a bit about the protocol for the night, and soon the events got underway. It wasn't long before the room was full of Snow's men. Katniss struggled to keep her breathing even as her nerves kicked in; she trained her eyes on the ceiling above her, tracing the grooves in the tiles, but she snuck glances at the men who filtered into the room. They were all decked out in suits and ties. The stock broker type, she guessed; they looked like the type, especially with the matching smug smirks that graced most of their punchable faces.

She fought another urge to vomit.

Eventually, the men began to wander from table to table, sampling rolls from each naked woman's body. Katniss had many years of experience in the food industry; she was used to the obnoxious banter and occasional snide, sexual remarks from male customers. But being so exposed to them now made the leers and derogatory observations they made to their buddies as they popped rolls in their mouths and grabbed drinks from passing servers much harder to stomach this time.

Still, she was glad they weren't trying to talk to her here. This was a time when her naturally bitchy face was completely acceptable; she didn't have to force a fake smile or sweet talk for tips. She was finally shining without even having to try.

"Peeta, lighten the fuck up, man."

Katniss' ears perked up as someone's conversation neared her. In her peripheral she could see two men stop by her table; blonde curls fell in barely contained waves across one's forehead, and the other, slightly taller man had slicked his bronze hair back in the current men's style. Hitler Youth. Katniss wrinkled her nose instinctively before she quickly set her expression back into neutral.

The blonde—Peeta, she gathered—sighed. "I'm fine, Finn, just—this is a little weird, isn't it?" he asked, his voice dropping as if he were afraid of anyone overhearing his complaint. His companion snorted.

"You act like you've never seen naked chicks before, and I know you fucked that Madge girl, at least. Haven't you ever been to a strip club?"

Peeta exhaled through his teeth. "Yeah, well, once, when I was 22. Not my scene, dude."

Finnick made a sound of disgust. "What are you, gay?"

"Would it be a problem if I were?" he volleyed back, his tone challenging, and Katniss saw Finnick's hands shoot up in defense.

"Nah, man, but just know that I don't swing that way."

She could feel the exasperation rolling off the blonde. "I'm not—"

But Finnick was distracted by a passing server balancing a tray of martinis in her hands, her long brown hair whipping behind her back as her hips snapped from side to side. "Whoa, excuse me, I think I see my future wife."

Peeta was left stranded as his friend chased after the server, and he looked around helplessly. Katniss found her eyes darting to him before focusing back on the ceiling. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, as if debating his options, and she began to grow uncomfortable. Finally, he seemed to come to his senses, and he sighed, grabbing a napkin from the table she was laid out on. She felt his eyes on her as he studied the sushi offerings, but she didn't look his way again.

"Ah, sorry, I'm just gonna…grab this one—here," he said apologetically, quickly snatching a roll from her rib cage. He popped it in his mouth and chewed thoroughly, but he lingered. She sensed a conversation coming, dread filling her stomach. "So, uh, how are you today?" he asked. Her cheek twitched, but she didn't respond. He couldn't be serious, could he? He continued, unfazed by her silence. "I'm new here. Well, with the company. I just started this week. Finnick told me there were certain perks to this job, but—oh, I mean, not that I consider this—" he waved around the room, "—a perk or something, that sounds sleazy. Sorry. I had no idea this was what he meant. I was just hoping for some stellar health insurance with dental and vision included."

Peeta laughed weakly, and by that point Katniss was sure her mouth was actively twisted into a scowl. An uncomfortable moment followed when Peeta nervously grabbed another roll, this time from the valley between her breasts. "Sorry, I'm not—I'm not trying to focus on this area on purpose, I swear," he apologized, gesturing to her breasts. "I just like tuna rolls the best, and they're all—well, they all seem to be concentrated up here."

Was he really talking at her about her tits? She was suddenly grateful for her olive complexion, the dark skin tone concealing the embarrassed flush that she could feel igniting her entire body.

"Maybe I should—I'll try some of these down here," he said, almost to himself, as he moved toward her legs. "What are these?" he mused out loud, selecting a roll. "Looks like eel." He put it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then he nodded to himself. "Yeah, definitely eel. It's not bad. I like salmon, too, but like I said, tuna's my favorite. What do you like?"

Katniss blinked rapidly at the ceiling, dropping her gaze to him before forcing her stare back up. This guy was a tool. He chuckled then. "Ah, sorry. I guess you can't really talk much at these things, huh?" He wrinkled his nose, grabbing a roll from her stomach and dragging it through a soy sauce dish near her foot. "It's really kind of gross, isn't it? I mean, they're literally using women as props at these parties. You're just supposed to be seen and not heard. How disgusting is that?" His eyes widened suddenly as he looked down at her. "Oh, not that—I don't mean to insult _you_, of course. This is your job. I'm sure you have your reasons for working here—not that you _need _a reason, of course. You can do whatever you like, I mean. I just—"

Thankfully, he shoved the roll into his mouth, seeming to realize he was rambling. She was just surprised he could fit anymore food in there with his foot in the way. She felt an indignant anger clenching her stomach now. She knew how demeaning this all was. She didn't need a stuck-up rich white boy to tell her that, not when he was literally _eating _off of her.

"Sorry," he tried again after a moment. "Like I was telling Finnick, this really isn't my scene. I don't really fit in with these guys, but…well, I'm good with money, and Snow is the best in the business. I make a lot of money here." She wanted to glare at him, but he seemed to recognize his mistake immediately. "I'm not trying to brag or rub it in, I swear! Fuck, I bet I sound really conceited, huh? That was such a humblebrag." He sighed. "Let me start over. My name's Peeta. What's your name?"

This time, she gawked at the ceiling. When she noticed he was holding his hand out for a handshake, she finally looked at him, her eyes wide. "I can't…I'm not allowed to speak to you," she hissed, trying to keep her movements discreet. Effie had stressed earlier how important it was that they do not react to the clients. Peeta gaped at her and pulled his hand back, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

"Of course, right! Sorry," he chuckled, clearly embarrassed. Huffing, Katniss tried to make herself relax and turned her gaze away from him again. But he still had her attention, unfortunately. "Wow, you must think I'm a dumbass. Or an asshole."

Both, really.

"I don't blame you," he went on, distractedly wiping his fingers on his napkin. "I'm definitely making an ass out of myself right now. I'm just so nervous—"

As he was talking, she saw his hand dip toward her breast. What came next happened so fast, she didn't have time to stop him. He carelessly snatched up the gari, peeling the pickled ginger from her skin and exposing her nipple to the air. Her jaw dropped open, and he realized his mistake too late, the gari already to his mouth, but by then she'd sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the table and stretched her arm out to slap him across his mouth. The ginger went flying from his lips, landing on the floor with a splat. It would have been comical if she weren't so fucking pissed.

"You asshole—you don't eat the _garnish_!" she yelled, modestly covering her exposed breasts as all the rolls tumbled to the floor from her sudden movements. But it didn't matter, really—everyone could see her ass at that point as they turned to observe the disturbance. She hopped off the table, grasping futilely at the scarf covering her groin and hurriedly darting around Peeta. He called after her, but she ignored him as she wove through the crowd of suited assholes, who were all starting to laugh uproariously at the scene. How fucking mortifying. She ignored Effie, too, who was shrieking behind her.

Katniss skidded into the back room and flicked the remaining rice and seaweed off her naked body, grabbing the nearest kimono to wrap herself in. The sushi chefs stared at her in shock as she plowed through the back door out into the alleyway. Luckily, the limo was still pulled out back, and she yanked on the door handle until the driver let her in. He didn't ask too many questions when she directed him toward her apartment, thankfully, and she slumped down in the seat, completely humiliated.

She didn't care if she got fired—hell, she was sure she already was after that fiasco. But she couldn't bear the indignity and shame any longer. Bank or not, her pride wasn't worth a public stripping by some obnoxious, fratty, trust fund dickhole.

* * *

Katniss felt a vibration in her back pocket, and once she had finished pouring the balding man's beer and slid it across the bar to him, she pulled her phone out to check the message. It was a text from Johanna.

_How's work going brainless?_

Katniss took stock of the bar to make sure no one else needed a drink at that moment, then she tapped out a reply. _Good, thanks for caring._

After her disastrous, extremely brief employment with Capitol Sushi, Katniss immediately found a job at Twelve, a bar owned by a curmudgeonly but soft-hearted man named Haymitch Abernathy. When she applied for the bartending job, she'd told him upfront that she wouldn't stand for any sort of sexual harassment from customers and if anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way, they'd get a boot so far up the ass they could shine it with their spit.

Haymitch had squinted blearily at her then burst out laughing. "Sweetheart, I like your fire. You're hired."

She'd only been at Twelve for a week, but already she liked it more than any other job she'd had before. She didn't have to take shit from anyone; she was free to snark at customers if they gave her attitude. In fact, Haymitch encouraged it; the barflies who frequented his establishment loved her sass. Finally, she could be herself. She loved it.

And she didn't have to worry about being late on her rent; her landlady, Old Sae, was more than understanding once Katniss had explained her situation to her and promised she'd have her the money as soon as she got paid. Sae had waived the late fee and patted her cheek encouragingly, exactly like her grandmother would have. "Just get it to me when you can," she'd told her sweetly.

One of the regulars waved her over for a refill, catching her attention then, and Katniss quickly mixed him an Old Fashioned. Her phone vibrated again, and after sharing a few quips with the man, she read her text. _Sure u don't wanna come back? Effie said she's willing to overlook ur 'bad manners' and 'lack of decorum' ;)_

Snorting, Katniss rolled her eyes. Effie must be desperate for girls. _Tell her she can go sit on a chopstick._

Someone cleared his throat, and Katniss hastily stashed her phone away as she looked up to assist whomever needed a drink now. But she froze when she saw the man in front of her, sliding into a stool at _her _bar.

Peeta. He smiled bashfully at her, and just looking at his face lit a red-hot rage in her chest. "Get out," she snapped at him, pointing at the door, but he held his hands up immediately.

"Wait!" he blurted, nearly withering under her glare. "Wait, just—hear me out, okay?"

"How did you find me? Are you stalking me?" she demanded, folding her arms over her chest. The people at the bar around them were watching the curly-haired blond skeptically.

Peeta shook his head fiercely. "No! Nothing like that. Liana—er, I mean, Johanna told me where you work," he explained, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Johanna didn't mention shit to her about talking to him. "She's friends with Finn. Ah, Finnick, you know, the guy—he was there with me at the, uh…the, uh…party thing you were at."

"So you _are _stalking me," she accused, vowing to kick Johanna's ass later after work. Peeta sighed, exasperated.

"No, I swear. Well, unless you consider asking someone who knows you where you work and then tracking you down at said workplace _stalking_…" he attempted to joke, quirking a nervous smile at her, but she met him with a pointed look.

"I do, actually."

His face sobered, and he folded his hands on the bar. "Right. Okay, look—I'm sorry, okay? I just…I so badly wanted to tell you how utterly sorry I am for the other night when I…I swear I didn't mean to-to—" he stuttered, gesturing to his own chest, "you know. It was an accident! I thought the ginger was there to eat, you know? To cleanse the palate and all that, like at a sushi restaurant. I didn't realize you didn't have anything under it covering your…er, you know." He was blushing furiously, and he looked so completely contrite, she felt her anger evaporating.

He sounded sincere, at least.

"It's fine," she grumbled finally, dropping her arms to her sides. "I guess you didn't do it maliciously."

He shook his head emphatically. "Not at all." He paused as he studied her. "I'm sorry if I got you fired," he offered, but she shrugged.

"You didn't get me fired. I got myself fired. Well, actually, I think I just quit. I don't know. Whatever. I'm not cut out for that kind of job," she said. "Doesn't matter, anyway. I work here now, and I'm fine."

He smiled at her, a dimple creasing his left cheek. "Good. I'm glad. I mean, I'm glad you're doing fine now. I feel better."

She shrugged, uncomfortable with just how attractive she was suddenly finding him to be. His blue eyes sparkled even in the dim bar lights. "Can I get you something to drink?" she offered to distract herself from just staring at him.

He frowned pensively as he studied the specials on the chalkboard behind her.

"Oh, ah…the Oktoberfest sounds good."

With a nod, she grabbed a frosty mug and pulled the Sam Adams tap toward her, angling the cup slightly as she filled it. Then she slid it across the bar to him, and he handed her a $5 bill. "Keep the change," he told her, and she nodded, opening the register and then stuffing the remaining cash in the tip jar.

"So, this is a nice place," he continued conversationally after he'd taken a large sip of his beer. His eyes darted around the room to check out the decor. Katniss shrugged.

"Yeah, not bad."

Peeta cleared his throat suddenly, looking back at her. "Have you ever been to, uh, Mellark's Bakery? It's right down the street…" At the shake of her head, his eyes dropped before lifting to hers again. "Well, there's no alcohol or anything, but their pastries are pretty much the best in the city. You should, um, check it out."

She nodded, though she had no plans to follow through. "Okay, sure."

He scratched the bridge of his nose. "Or…I could take you, someday. If you want. Um, my parents actually own the place, so we could eat for free—"

"Wait," she interrupted him, gaping incredulously at him. "Are you seriously asking me on a date right now?"

He furrowed his brow. "Um, yes? Unless you're not interested, then, I mean, no, I'm just trying to advertise my parents' bakery."

She blinked furiously before scowling. "This is because you saw my nipple, isn't it? You think I'm just gonna put out or something?"

His mouth hung open. "No, of course not! I barely even—I don't even remember what your breast looks like!" At her glare, he faltered. "Okay, that's a lie. I'm sorry. I do remember what it looks like. It was nice! I'm sorry!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, you just make me so flustered, I keep bumbling like an idiot—"

"_I_ fluster you?" she repeated in disbelief, and he laughed anxiously.

"Well, yeah. You're just…you're really pretty, and you're a hardass, and you seem really cool, like, way cooler than I am. So it makes me nervous."

She was stunned speechless for a moment. "Wow. I don't…I don't know what to say."

He coughed slightly. "Well, you can say yes if you're interested in a date with me. Or tell me to fuck off if you're not, that's cool, too. I swear I'm not just asking because I think I'll get laid or something." He looked worried suddenly. "I mean, not that that's _completely _out of the realm of my interests or anything—okay, I'm going to stop talking now, I promise."

She shook her head then, unable to stifle her quiet laugh. This was so utterly bizarre, she didn't know how to process it. She took a moment to study him before sighing. "I…okay, I guess. Yes. We can go to your parents' bakery."

His eyes went round. "Really?"

She nodded, biting down on her lip to fight the grin. He was like an excited puppy. "Yes. But only because you said it was free."

He laughed, scrubbing a hand through his unruly curls as his cheeks filled with color. "Okay, great. Great. Ah, I actually should get back to work. I don't even know if I'm allowed to be drinking right now, but," he took one last large gulp of his beer before pushing the mug back toward. "Okay, I'm gonna leave before you change your mind. I'll, uh, call you later, yeah?"

She arched an eyebrow as he stood up but nodded. "Okay."

With a final wave, he spun around on his heel to leave, but she called out after him. "Peeta, wait!" He whirled back around, his face full of hope. She smiled in amusement. "Don't you need my number? And my name, maybe?"

He blinked before bursting into a sheepish grin. "That would help, huh?"

* * *

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